


As long as I got a target on my back

by inappropriatefangirlneeds



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fantasy, Fighting, Insomnia, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, One-Sided Attraction, Wounds, attraction to violence, hints of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inappropriatefangirlneeds/pseuds/inappropriatefangirlneeds
Summary: Small piece about a crack ship. Jim Gordon rescuing Mario twice has left some impression. He can´t find sleep after the dinner with Lee. Based on the dialogues of 3x10, I changed the context a bit so that it was not Mario who followed Lee to Jim´s place. His infection is not as far developed in here.





	

He had known it. Somehow. Even before the driver had told him with a low whispering voice. Couldn´t even blame her. What would he blame her for anyway? The driver had not been in there. Surely nothing had happened. She got to have her own life and decisions. He understood that. The beautiful woman sleeping next to him. Breathing shallow but steady, dark hair sprawled over the pillow, free from the tons of hairspray the stylist put into it lately. This kind of sweet slumber had not captured him. Mario had lain awake for quite some while now.  
Carefully he lifted the bed sheet, egyptian linen, and planted his bare feet on the carpet. The way to the bathroom was warm and soft, the tiles in there being a sharp contrast. The sudden coldness made him almost shiver. Mario closed the door gently before switching on the light. The male face appearing in the mirror looked at him accusingly. Lee. Sound asleep in their bed. His soon to be wife. He loved her, but this night he had left her behind. His mind was wandering other paths. It had started a while ago but noticing where Lee had been before their dinner had gotten him off track even more. He just had known it. Jim. Mario was not even sure why he knew. Maybe it was only because Jim was occupying his mind the whole day. Week. While. He has always been there a bit but this day just put him into a spotlight in the gyri of his brain. Potential trouble, that´s what he was. His father had been right. He just had judged the kind of trouble the wrong way. Jealousy about Jim shifted to hints of jealousy about Lee. Mario had wondered how often she has had to tend to the wounds of that man. Jim did not even flinch when he treated him in the hospital, this was obviously nothing new for him. Hair disheveled, bruised, bloody. Lee must have seen him often like this. Maybe when everything was taken care of she had let her hands slide under that white undershirt, feeling the muscle that had gotten him out of danger again. He had never been a jealous man, always had seen it as something foolish. Logic and respect for his loved ones had always won over this petty emotion, so far.

Mario had organized some protection for Lee after the attack. The GCPD´s incompetence being well known this seemed to be a good call. Maybe he should have told her. Surely should have. No doubt about that. But there was not exactly much time for arguments he had told himself. Luckily the men never needed to take action. Lee would never know. Just that one driver decided to take another kind of action. He had told Mario the address where he had dropped off Lee before the dinner, knowing well enough who lived there. Mario hadn´t ordered them to spy on his fiancée, he would never do that but it had happened. It did not change anything. He trusted her. There were thousands of reasons for her visit, and seemingly it had granted her enough peace to be fully asleep on the feathered pillow they had chosen. Peace he lacked.  
  
The rings under his eyes had gotten darker. Nothing that could not be covered on the great day, luckily. That was nothing to lose sleep over. Other than the fact that he could not stop thinking about this man. Mario did not know when exactly his mind had decided to shift the meaning of Jim´s words. “ _You need to trust me_ ” He could still hear his voice. The sincerity in it. He knew Jim had meant it. He knew as well that he meant it for the sake of Lee. Wanted her to be happy, even if it meant to keep him alive but his mind kept twisting and turning the words. “ _Trust me, Mario_ ” He could imagine so well how it would sound. Seeing Jim run to his rescue had left an impact. His own instincts had saved him from the blade at first but seeing the motorcycle turn had left him believing he would not survive this encounter. Two men, a motorcycle and a very sharp blade. What could he have done with himself and his phone, but then Jim came running, gun drawn. Firing. Saving him. It was a sight. The grab on his arm. Strong. Piercing. Determined. Confident. Drawing him into safety. He had cursed himself for being so dumb and stunned that he just stood there. Jim must have deemed him an idiot. The idiot he had to safe that would marry the woman he loved. He still did it. Looking at his own reflection Mario sometimes was not sure about what he could admire about himself but he did admire that in Jim. Decency aside he as well had admired that strength. That agility. How that face hardened in the moment of danger. No hint of hesitation. How Jim´s voice had changed just a bit. How he still had remained so calm. Just that tiny growl in his voice. “ _not the target_ ” Dark and low. “ _you are_ ”. Pleasant timbre overshadowing the troubling meaning.

Mario turned on the faucet and splashed his face with some water. It did not help. Even with his face buried in the soft monogrammed  towel he could hear it. Eyes closed like that, he almost could feel the grip on his biceps. Made him wish he could feel these fingers on other parts of his body. The towel fell on the floor when Mario touched the spot on his arm, his hands slid down to where Jim had grabbed him the second time. He had pushed the hand away but it wasn´t what he wanted to do then. He had a face to maintain. A reputation. Always had. It was a habit by now. Hearing his father talk about that _"freakish little man_ " was just one of the many things that had taught him what the Don´s son could do and what not. Some things he had learned early, some a bit too late. A tightrope act between liberties and austerities.

Going to the jeweler he had wanted to make it right. Wanted to protect his wife and family. Wanted to show he could do more than just stand there stunned. He had not been able to help against Tetch either and every day after this incident he cursed himself for not checking the magazine. Gordon would have. It had been mortifying. Failing his wife to safe her. Failing Jim whom he has had made the plan with. Today he had made sure that it was fully loaded. He was prepared, they would not catch him off guard like in the hospital. He needed to proof that he could do something. Not his father´s henchmen, not Jim not anyone else but him. _“Mario? You really think this is a good idea?”_ No he hadn´t, that was why hearing Jim´s voice has sent a well concealed wave of relieve through his body, and one of excitement which he tried to suppress even more. “ _Using yourself as bait?”_ It was the only thing he thought he could do and he had to do something, despite knowing quite well, that without Jim the whole thing truly could have resulted in his exitus. He was more than aware of that fact. Jim had pushed him out of the way of the throwing knife and he had watched him almost emptying his magazine in the attackers body a mere second after. He should have watched his back but that had been too much of a sight. Jim had noticed the other man storming through the door first but he had managed to draw his own gun just a moment later. He never managed to use it though. The first guy had also stopped him from seeing how Jim had gotten thrown in the glass vitrine, how he must have turned the fight to his advantage until he had the attacker´s face pressed into the carpet floor. It hadn´t mattered back then. He had been so angry. Mad. Furious. Mario was not used to feeling that kind of rage but he was glad that he had. Maybe that had kept him alive and after all never before his life and family had been threatened like that. What if Lee had been with him picking up their rings? Not even before his father´s retirement he has had to face sword wielding assassins and exploding cars. That was not what he wanted for his wife either. What if she had been standing in the line of the throwing knife? He was not sure if he could have pushed her out of the line of fire in time, just like Jim had pushed him. Pushed him with all his strength. Or rather not all of it, he would have some hematomas then, Mario assumed. Shame he hadn´t.

Recalling the feeling of Jim´s body crashing into his made his hand slip from his arm. Mario brushed over his abdomen before pushing his fingers under the waistband of his shorts. Why should he restrain himself further, alone behind a locked door? Waiting for the dinner, first he had pictured a scenario where he was the hero, where he hadn´t needed Jim and had been able to deal with the assassins himself but the detective kept invading his thoughts and soon he was left with imagining the fight he had not witnessed and others that had never happened. Jim throwing punches. Breaking noses. Jim fighting other culprits. Several of them at once. Jim getting bruises but always the upper hand in any of the fights. Now Mario brought back all those pictures.

He just stood in his bathroom, hand wrapped around his cock and let his imagination work for him. “ _You're gonna get killed.” “What do you care?” .. “I don´t want you dead, Mario”_   It was so far from the truth but it did not matter. Not when the image of Jim fighting off his attackers was so appealing. Suit fabric stretching over muscle in action. Mario switched the image, made the fictional Jim roll up his sleeves. Made his eyes glistening dangerously before he threw himself into the fight. Kept them glistening like that when he turned around after beating the attacker into submission.

Mario pushed his shorts down until the band got caught in his gluteal sulcus. He started to let his hand slide over his cock to the image of a roughed up Jim walking towards him. Hands soiled with the blood of the men who wanted him dead. Jim would fist them into his collar, pulling him up from the floor. There would be a quick glance to make sure he was unharmed before he would pull him closer and connect their lips. Mario would not be stunned by this. He would not just stand there uselessly how he had been doing it so often lately, he would kiss back. Weave his hands into the blond strands, tousling them even more.

Mario let his hand move faster, in need of some stability his left one found the rim of the sink. He bent his body downwards, averting the possibility of catching a glimpse of the picture of himself jerking off to the thought of Jim Gordon in his bathroom mirror.

There had been so many shards. Shattered glass of the vitrine. Jim, the real one, he must have gotten some cuts. Mario felt a little spark of guilt but more prominent was the wonder about if he needed stitches again. Which medic would treat him? Mend the warrior. Who would get the pleasure of touching that man´s skin? Maybe piercing it with a needle? The injuries Mario had treated on Jim were not severe enough to leave anything behind. Everything would fade, and he had always found pride in being so capable in his work that he left only small, fine scars behind. Even in his first year he got some admiration for his skillful stitching, but with Jim he could not help but feel a little sting of regret. Leaving something on this body was an appealing thought. Have some impact on him. Even the tiniest mark, amongst plenty of others. Badges of honor. Mario wondered if Lee had sometimes let her fingers run over the healing scars she had sewn together. He mirrored the imagined movement following one of the veins on his cock.

 _“You want me to cancel the wedding.” “I just want to keep you safe.”_ Mario had repeated those words so often in his head already and he still liked how they sounded. Didn´t get bored of it. Liked what they could mean as well. Jim caring for him, being protective. Just the tiniest piece of acknowledgment. “ _I'd bet you'd love that_.” Mario wanted to say these same words in such a different context. He was glad that he had been occupied with his worries when he had uttered them. He was confident that neither his voice nor eyes or body language had given away any hint of innuendo. Lee and their shared life being endangered was what his mind had been concerned with in that moment. However Mario could not forget the nagging feeling that he had been unnecessarily challenging, that his subconscious just wanted to have Jim get all into his personal space again and tell him how exactly he would hunt him down. That chill running down his vertebral column upon hearing the death threat and how he might long to experience just that again was something Mario tried to forget. Something he pushed far away, trying to put another picture into the spotlight .. his hands entangled in Jim´s hair .. how soft it would feel. Mario had enough on his hands without having to worry about what issues could be lingering in the depths of his subconscious. It surely was only because Jim had smelled so well, being all close suddenly, anyway. Threatening or promising, it was a small line. “ _I'd bet you´d love that .. wouldn´t you Jim?_ ” Mario did not expect to say anything like that to Jim anytime, again.  At least his imagination allowed it to change the meaning of them. The whole situation. He´d say these words after proposing something to Jim. Jim of course would agree. Doing it right there in the hospital, after Mario had made sure that everything was properly bandaged and disinfected, personally of course. No need to bother a nurse. He´d lock the door and tend to Jim in other ways. Thank him properly for saving his life, he would call it. A payment he´d be glad to repeat any time. You never could pay off that kind of debt anyway. Jim would indeed love it when he would wrap his mouth around his cock, let his tongue flicker over his tip. Still sweaty from the fight, Jim might have asked to take a shower before they´d do it but he would not care. Mario betted Jim would taste great, would strain his mouth trying to fit him all in but he´d gladly try. He had little practice but that would not stop him. It would be more than worth it. He´d hear Jim moan in pleasure. His growls would sound so different than the ones after taking a hit. Lower even and much more pleasant to the ear.  
  
Thinking of Jim moaning for him, Mario put more pressure onto his cock. Once all healed up Jim would take the lead, would press him against a wall, bend him over a table. Use him like he pleased. There were so many possibilities. The images switched and changed as quickly as his hand was moving now. The grip on the sink tightened when Mario stopped at the thought of having Jim here, right now, behind him, fucking him with full force. A strong grip in his hair would pull his head up, would make him look into the mirror and see his face twist every time Jim would hit his prostate gland. Quick, harsh thrusts. No holding back. Getting faster and faster, harder even. Knuckles turning white and standing out against his dark hair. His hair would almost get riped out of its follicles. The pull on his roots being a constant when the other rhythm would falter. They would lock their eyes in the reflective surface when they would come together. Jim´s voice would echo so loud in his ears. Marvelous. Real Mario instead kept his head low and his eyes closed. He squinched them together even harder when he spilled himself on the floor, biting on his lip to keep quiet.

After the little moment he needed to regain his composure, he picked up the towel and cleaned the stains. Before throwing it to the laundry he rinsed it in the sink for a while. Mario walked out of the bathroom with an expression like nothing had happened. Nothing he couldn't hide, as well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!


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